Alarm Clock
by Irrelevancy
Summary: What started with an F, and ended with a K, affecting all within the Varia? Lussuria's Christmas present for Xanxus, that's what. Xanxus/Squalo, Bel/Fran. Limey.


**A/N: I'm not using this as an excuse, but this is my first Reborn fic.**

**And Xanxus/Squalo, being my new absolute-love-OTP, naturally scored the leading roles.**

**xDD**

**Enjoy~~?**

**:)**

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Squalo hated Lussuria with a fiery passion.

It's not that Squalo holds the fact that the guy was way too flamboyantly gay for the good of everyone's eyes against him. Definitely not. He didn't judge people like that. No. There was a specific reason he hated Lussuria. An extremely specific reason. A reason that started with a big capital F and ended with a big capital K. Something that affected not only the swordsman, but also the Big Boss (with capital Bs) Xanxus directly.

FRUIT-SHAPED ALARM CLOCK.

Squalo found it extremely annoying, not only because of the incessant beeping that served the "alarm" part of its overly-lengthy title, but also because of the somewhat-long backstory that went with it.

All in all, he guess he could blame that fucking brat that called himself a prince. Or maybe that Froggy that always hangs around together with Bel, despite his many claims of his hatred towards the prince. Hell, he could blame _everyone_ in the Varia if he wanted to.

Or maybe he could just blame everything on Xanxus, like he has been doing for the past ten-someodd years.

--

It was Christmas Eve, God dammit. The night before the big important day that had something to do with the Christ. The night before the big important day celebrated by every single group of people who had come together with any semblance of being a family. The night before the big important day that was even celebrated by the _Varia_.

So what the fuck was Squalo doing outside?! In the snow?! Fucking cold and _alone_?!

Indeed, it was all that Massive Sadist Xanxus-sama's fault. Him and one of his 90%-and-higher-probability-of-beating-the-mucus-out-of-the-enemy missions. One that simply _had_ to be done on Christmas Eve.

See, in the first place, Squalo was never particularly keen on celebrating Christmas Eve with everyone. After all, December 24th just meant (to the Varia, anyways) an exchange of weird-ass presents gathered from their missions (or actually bought with their allowances, on the rare occasion), getting stuffed from the food the swordsman was forced to cook for everyone (Xanxus was a lost cause, _the Prince_ didn't cook, Fran refused to make anything substantial that won't disappear in a poof the second it lands in your stomach, Levi's cooking was strictly prohibited by the Boss via extremely violent means, and Lussuria... Lussuria thinks of Viagra as a _spice_), then drinking themselves into oblivion during a stupid game of beer-bullet (a Varia variation), I-Fucking-Dare-You-To (another Varia variation), or maybe a good traditional game of poker (whether it be the money, wine, or clothe-betting variety). Of course, whatever game they choose to play would always, in the end, turn into somewhat of a massacre, that would end up with Xanxus hauling Squalo off into the _bowels of the castle_ and Bel Ushishi-ing while dragging Fran off for "punishment". So really, Christmas Eve was just a choicy combination of crappy gifts, sore arms, and later on, sore backs and the location a bit south of the back. It's really quite obvious why Squalo wouldn't miss missing it at all.

...Which is why he finished his jobs a couple of days ahead of time, and did this particular job a couple of hours ahead of schedule. Yet, he's still stomping through the snow at the time of 10:52 p.m., why?!

_Because of that fucking son of many bitches Xanxus!!!_

Apparently, the priorities of the big Boss of the Varia was Liquor, Food, Liquor, Libido, Liquor, and maybe only then, Squalo. It simply had to be this night that Xanxus realized that he had used up his whole liquor store on murdering Squalo's hair follicles, and demanded the two meters by eight meters liquor cabinet to be filled to the brim with pricelessly aged wine (which he could then induce, once more, upon the swordsman's hair. As if blood wasn't hard enough to wash off already). Then, being the extremely helpful and attentive family they are, every single member of the Varia refused to accompany him in bringing all the wine back (Levi took this chance to sneak into the kitchen to prepare the Boss a "special" meal - Stalker Style). Squalo was then left with no other choice than to - of course - run to the nearest wine stock nearby (he didn't even _want_ to count how many miles), purchase a near twelve dozen bottles, and haul them all back himself to stock that _fuckin' cabinet._

You'd think that was all. You'd think that's all the torture one would have to go through on Christmas Eve. But _noooo_. Of course not. Not when you have the bat shit-insane Varia assassins independent mafioso group as your family.

When the swordsman, with the heavy load of glass and fermated grape juice off his back, finally, came down to the dining "hall" where everyone usually gathered for Christmas Eve, he finds thick torrents smoke pouring out of the kitchen he had somewhat reluctantly claimed as his. He set out at a sprint, and was within that billowing cloud of choking gray and black within a nanosecond, stomping his way through the mess and groping blindly for that shirt cuff he just _knew_ would be there-!

Got it! With a loud yell ("VOOOOOOOOIIIIII!"), Squalo hauled Levi around his back and straight out the kitchen door, sending his giant bulk through a wall or five and down a flight of carpeted stairs. Calling the rain, the swordsman quickly extinguished the burning, pulsating mass of _whateverthefuckitwas_ on the stovetop, only to have thin arms wrapping around his neck and likewise thin legs wrapping around his torso in the very next moment.

"Ushishishi~ The Prince is hungry~" Bel announced, playing with a singed end of one of Squalo's locks of silver-white hair. With another loud yell, the rain guardian attempted to shake the blond off his back, but to no avail. The storm guardian clung on like a koala, laughing the whole time, enjoying the ride. Squalo was just about to resolve for running backwards at high speed and _ramming_ the stupid brat off his back (quite literally) when a monotonous voice suddenly droned from the doorway.

"I thought the idiotic, long-haired commander would like to know the Boss is yelling for him, and here I find he and the Fallen Prince molesting each other," Fran muttered, staring at the two in the kitchen with that condescending, yet sort of meaningless gaze of his. As quick as lightning, Bel had shot out three - or was that _four_? - of his oddly-shaped knives, all which promptly imbedded themselves into the frog-hat the mist guardian was forced to wear.

"Who are you calling a fallen prince, froggy?" Bel said with just a touch of irritation in his childlike voice. Suddenly bored, the Prince dropped off his commander's back and sauntered out the doorway, turning around one last time to fix Squalo with a grin (or well, he turned in Squalo's general direction. It's really hard to tell where he's looking with that fringe of hair and all). "Daddy's looking for you, mommy dearest. Don't you think it best to attend to him?"

Bel's cackles followed Squalo up the hallways all the way to Xanxus's room, along with the telltale sounds of blades brushing against each other, and Fran's ever-monotonous "Ouch, Bel-sempai. That hurts, you know."

--

"I want food."

"Thank you. I missed you too."

With a scowl, Squalo pointedly ignored the strange look his boss sent his way. He was simply too pissed right now to put up with Xanxus's laziness, pompousness, and downright skepticism. Who's fault did he think it was that the swordsman was so pissed?! With determined, and much-heavier-than-necessary steps, Squalo walked up to the wine cabinet (which he had just filled to the brim, under the selfish order of _somebody_) and pulled out the nearest bottle at hand (Bourbon, was it?), dutifully filling Xanxus's (new) crystal cup with the crimson liquid.

"There," he growled. "Fill yourself with that until dinner's done."

He hadn't taken two steps towards the door when the same glass he had just handed to Xanxus crashed against his head, the cool, but not-so-cool drink sliding down his back and seeping into his _newly-laundered uniform_.

"VOOOOOIIIII! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!"

"I said I wanted food." Xanxus's growl was much more threatening than Squalo's (he knew there was a reason he followed the selfish, obnoxious prick of a mafia boss), as was the fluid standing-up motion to accentuate the underlying threat in his voice. Faster than even Squalo's eyes could follow, the Varia boss had planted himself firmly in front of his rain guardian, glaring with those ruby eyes so hard that Squalo could only focus on his nose without cringing. "And what I say goes, trash, or are you disobeying a direct order?"

Now, under normal circumstances, Squalo's survival instincts would've beaten his adrenaline rush rudely into submission with a heavy iron baseball bat and he would've just bowed out to obey his boss's every whim. But today, with the gathering of all the stress building up, the swordsman just... _snapped_.

"You know what?! Yes. Yes I fuckin' am disobeying a direct fuckin' order. I will NOT fuckin' go get your fuckin' shit of food 'cause all the fuckin' cooks quit their fuckin' jobs, and that fuckin' Levi just fuckin' fucked up the fuckin' kitchen. So you either fuckin' wait until I clean the fuckin' place up, or eat fuckin' take out from the nearest Panda Express. TAKE YOUR FUCKIN' PICK.'

And no, Squalo did _not_ care that he just used up his swearing quota of the day, possibly week, possibly month. There was only so much 'fuckin''s' you can put into a sentence, after all.

Xanxus seemed a bit shocked at his rain guardian's outburst, and only stared as said rain guardian caught his breath from his hissy fit. Slowly, his arm raised up over Squalo's head, and Squalo flinched in preparation for the blow he knew was going to come-

Only to have gloved fingers wrap around his hair and tilting his head back to meet a pair of hungry, demanding lips.

Three minutes and twenty six seconds later, Squalo regained his consciousness, so to speak.

"Vooooii!" Squalo yelped, sacrificing a couple of strands of silver-white hair to pull away. "It's not a good time for this! Everyone-"

"Shut up," Xanxus whispered, nipping roughly at the swordsman's chin, tongue darting out to soothe away the bite. "I don't care."

"But-! The food-! Everybody-!" Not that Squalo was getting distracted by his boss mouthing warmly at his neck.

"You won't cook for me," he muttered against pale skin. And that couldn't be... _indignation_ in his voice, could it?! "Guess I'll just have to make due."

"What the hell?!" The rain guardian squirmed against the strong arms wrapped tightly around him, though he honestly wouldn't mind just relaxing and letting Xanxus take whatever liberties he wanted with his body. "What does that even mean?!"

_Dangerous_ and _stunning_ were perfect adjectives to describe the smirk that crossed Xanxus's face, as he bit down harshly against Squalo's collarbone. The swordsman couldn't hold back a moan at the meticulously _Xanxus _blend of pain and pleasure. "Shark for dinner. Could be better, but I won't complain."

"You...!!" Squalo held his breath in an attempt to steady his panting, but Xanxus mistook it for anticipation, and grinned, pulling back slightly. A hand surreptitiously moved its way up the rain guardian's thigh to rest as his slowly hardening member.

"Are such a saint," Xanxus finished for him, suddenly cupping Squalo, making the long-haired man buck forward instinctively. A strangled scream made its presence known from Squalo's opened mouth as he arched his neck back. The first buttons along Squalo's collar were undone by calloused fingers, then an extremely talented tongue licked its way languidly up the skin. "I know."

"X-Xanxus..." Squalo gasped, clawing along his boss's back in a search for a handhold. He was seriously sex-deprived if he was reduced to this pathetic state just by mouth and a hand. "Please... I-I need... need..."

"You... need to cook me dinner."

Then Xanxus was gone, sitting back in his chair, lounging like he hadn't just be molesting his second in command. Squalo could only gap in shock, before the building pressure in his groin sapped all the energy out of his knees, making him collapse in a shivering mess of silver hair and half-opened uniform jackets.

"Xanxus...!!" he half-whined, desperately keeping his legs together in an attempt to hide his erection. "You... You can't just-!"

"Cook me dinner, and maybe I'll think about it," Xanxus answered evenly, picking up the whole bottle of bourbon and drinking straight from it. He shot Squalo a look. "Steak. Sirloin. _Now_."

It sufficed to say that dinner was done in less than a couple of minutes, and Squalo's _problem_ was solved.

Of course, it's not quite clear how this Christmas Eve related to fruit-shaped alarm clocks and hating Lussuria, since it's not exactly this Christmas Eve that everything happened. It's just a necessary backstory for the morning after. And that part... that part could be told quite easily, and simply.

Basking in the afterglow of many and many rounds of rough, passionate sex (those are rare; only happening when Xanxus was in the mood), both Xanxus and Squalo had fallen deeply asleep, trusting their dysfunctional family members to some extent as to keep them from being killed by rival family members (especially that stupid prince. There was a reason his room was on the other side of the boss's). What happened was that Lussuria had snuck in afterwards and put his Christmas present on the bedside table, and (smartly) retreated.

Xanxus and Squalo were rudely woken up the next morning by a quite disturbing, quite unfamiliar, quite _annoying_ sound.

Before Xanxus could release his wrath upon the alarm clock, Bel, and consequently, Fran, barged into the room, the prince cackling loudly. The froggy, behind him, pulled the string behind a firecracker, letting it blow in front of the two.

"Merry Christmas from the prince~! Ushishishi~!" Bel's presents were rudely shoved in front of Xanxus and Squalo, wrapped in an ugly mauve-colored paper covering. "Where's my presents, eh~?"

"Go. Away." Xanxus's glare of doom had, apparently, been overused on the prince, for he had apparently gained immunity. Fran, however, wasn't so unaffected, and flinched back in response.

"Stupid wimp of a froggy," Bel mocked, folding his arms on top of the hat, shoving Fran down.

"Stupid fallen prince," Fran muttered, unblinking. "You didn't give me a present, you know."

"Jealous~?"

"Aren't _you_ because I didn't get you one?"

Before Squalo could yell at the two to get out, the alarm clock rang again.

"VOOOOOIIII!!! SHUT THAT THING UP!!!" he roared.

"Why, is the strategy commander annoyed~?" Bel grinned. "All the more reason to keep it~"

At this point, Squalo froze, slowly turning to Xanxus, hoping the boss didn't catch that. Unfortunately, by the self-satisfied quirking smile on the scarred man's lips, he obviously did.

"All the more reason to keep it..." Xanxus echoed. Bel, his mission (whatever that may be) accomplished, retreated with a smile, along with Fran. "Indeed..."

"...Please don't." It wasn't everyday that Squalo begged. So it's quite apparent how annoying the alarm clock was.

Xanxus's only answer was an open grin, dooming the rain guardian to wake up to the absolutely annoying sound of a fruit-shaped alarm clock every morning after.

...Well, until, of course, Squalo's hand _accidentally_ slipped one morning, sword and all, and _accidentally_ sliced the god-awful thing in half.

For a couple of days, Squalo was able to wake up in peace, unbothered by the screech of the clock. Until Lussuria, nice as he was, bought _another _one.

That's it. That green flap of hair, whatever it was? It'll be gone by tomorrow morning.

...On second thought, tonight. Along with the newly-split halves of the new clock.

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**A/N: Frankly, I'm disappointed at the lack of lemon, and the crappy ending...**

**=.=**

**But still, meh.**

**Review, please!!!**

**No one seems to do that these days...**

**D:**


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